Glimpses
by Kaoru2.50
Summary: Draco sees something out the window and decides to check it out, setting into motion a series of events that lead to an unexpected end. HPDM. Draco POV. A slightly edited repost of my first story.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: For some random reason, I decided to repost this story. It's my first fic, and so far the only complete one, but I wanted to see if it got better results this go 'round, probably because I rather like this story. Go ahead. Call me biased. **

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his lovely little world belong to JK Rowling.**

A frustrated groan echoed through the empty corridors of the third floor of Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy stood leaning his forehead to the cool glass panes of one of the many windows. He frowned at the rain that was sliding down the glass, turning the world beyond it into a blur of greens and grays. Draco's broomstick dangled loosely from his right hand; his left was drawing patterns in the fog left on the window by his breath.

It just wasn't fair. The first time all semester that he'd finally had the free time to escape from his students and from the heavy load of homework to be graded and it had to be the middle of a downpour. His hand tightened into a fist and he punched at the wall, cursing at the bolt of pain that traveled up through his arm.

Turning to leave, Draco brought his abused hand up to the feeble light to examine it more closely. Lightening flashed and Draco caught a glimpse of something out the corner of his eye. His injury all but forgotten, the blonde Head of Slytherin pressed his face against the glass, feeling ridiculously like a pathetic first-year. But there it was again, visible only when lightening tore across the stormy sky.

Draco held his breath and wiped the remaining mist off the window, waiting anxiously for a better view of ….of what? He didn't know but it felt like something he had to see. The lightening flashed again and Draco came to a decision before the light had even faded. Gripping his broom tightly, he ran down the corridors, down several flights of stairs and into the entrance hall almost before he realized it.

The man opened the huge door enough to slip through and paused for a moment under the protection of the building. The rain was thundering down, heavy enough to make sight near impossible except during those short flashes where lightening ripped the sky in two. His eyebrows came together in thought and Draco looked in the direction he knew the Quidditch pitch to be, not that he could actually see a single pole.

Normally, Draco Malfoy was not one to believe in fate or destiny, even if he did live in a world of magic. He thought a person controlled their own life and was responsible for their own actions. He knew he hadn't always felt that way but since his deflection to the so-called "light" side and the defeat of Voldemort only two years ago, he had changed his world view. He had even been granted a position at the school, that of potions professor, and tried to adjust to his new life as a colleague of people he had once thought himself to be better than.

Hermione Granger, now Hermione Weasley, taught Transfigurations following the appointment of McGonagall to Headmistress. Her husband Ron took over flying classes and Quidditch refereeing after the retirement of Madame Hooch, who had sustained a major injury during a fight with a Death Eater, paralyzing her right arm and causing blindness in her left eye. Neville Longbottom was even now being trained by Professor Sprout to take charge of Herbology while his fiancée, Luna Lovegood, taught Divination with the centaur Firenze. The great savior himself, Harry Potter, had even broken the one-year curse on DADA teaching position and was on his second year as possibly the most qualified teacher for the class. He was still someone Draco tried to avoid at all costs.

It was an odd assortment of teachers but not one parent had complained, nor was any likely to do so. It was the life they had made for themselves, the life he had made for himself. Destiny had done nothing for him, neither had fate. But he did know that something was pulling him towards the pitch. Draco took a deep breath and entered the downpour, breaking into a run after two steps.

By the time he made it to the stands, Draco was soaked through to the skin and was shivering with cold. He was close enough now to see what had caught his eye. Breathing hard, he looked up and almost choked on the last gulp of air. The so-called "boy who lived," the man who had defeated the Dark Lord and had become the most powerful wizard alive, was flying around the pitch, soaring though the air, pelted by raindrops and performing moves that were dangerous under good conditions and life-threatening under these. To top it all off, he was laughing like a first-year under a tickling charm.

Draco jumped as another bolt of lightening lit through the clouds and thunder crashed. Glaring at Potter, it was his fault Draco was out here after all, he took a in a mouthful of air and prepared to yell up at the fool. Before a word left his mouth however, said fool was standing in front of him, dismounting from his broom.

The potions instructor released the air in a huff and glowered down at the shorter man. Harry Potter ran a hand through his wet hair, flicking the dark strands from his face, before looking up at the older blonde. For a moment, the two stared at each other in a way reminiscent of their schooldays, rivalry in full swing.

Then Potter tossed him a grin and began to walk past the stunned professor. He stopped right next to him and, putting his hand on Draco's shoulder, said calmly "Quidditch pitch is all yours now, Malfoy. Careful though. It's a bit wet." The taller man turned and watched, speechless, as the other strode away, his laughter ringing out above the sounds of the pouring rain.

The rain was falling more softly and Draco realized he was still standing next to the stands. Shaking his head, he started toward the school and was nearly to his dungeon level rooms before a strange sensation took him. He stopped abruptly and examined his symptoms. His heart was pounding faster than normal, his stomach felt queasy, and his face felt hot, as though he'd been standing next to a warm fire for the past hour. A mental image of Potter popped into his head and he frowned, the look on his face sending a Hufflepuff second year scurrying away unnoticed by the preoccupied potions master.

The same Hufflepuff had reached the end of the corridor and was about to climb the stairs when a loud angry voice boomed around him. He yelped and tripped up the stairs, not even pausing to wonder why his teacher had yelled out "Bloody Gryffindor!"

**A/N: I know its an older story, but let me know what you think about it anyway. Thanks, all!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I **_**still**_** don't own Harry Potter….**

Glimpses

By: Kaoru2.50

Draco Malfoy sat at his desk surrounded by the stacks of 20 inch essays just turned in by his advanced 7th years. Leaning forward over one of the scrolls, he recognized the name, not merely as a current student but also a former dorm mate. He shook his head then ran his fingers through his hair. One of the strangest things about being a teacher was that occasionally he came across a student he knew from his own school years.

Leaning back in his chair, he stretched his arms above his head, working kinks out of his shoulders before settling back in to work. It was his only free period on Tuesdays so he needed to get started or he'd be up late again tonight.

An hour later, the potions master once more leaned back in his chair, this time with a sigh of annoyance. Once more his students had not failed to disappoint, mistakes were made in almost every scroll he had examined so far. He dug the fingers of both hands into the blonde strands on either side of his head, almost pulling the hair in frustration.

Draco looked around the room in an attempt to rest his eyes and caught a flash of red through the crack in the door. Curious, he stood, leaning forward to get a better look. He succeeded in knocking half of the unread essays to the floor and cursed the red ink that spilled across his hand from the overturned bottle that had once been sitting upright near the top center of the desk.

Frantically, he attempted to clean the mess before realizing that there were spells for this kind of thing. Draco shook his head as he cast _scourgify_, noting with disgust the still bright red tint of his hand. Laughter from the hall trickled into the room, drawing the irate professor from his musings.

Making sure his steps did not echo on the cold, stone floor of his dungeon classroom, Draco walked to the door and peered through the crack. He had expected a pair of students skipping class in favor of a mid-day hangout, but instead was greeted with the sight of a short dark-haired man discussing seekers with a small boy, second year from the look of him, dressed in the red Quidditch robes of the Gryffindor House team.

Draco must have made a sound, though he had been careful not to, because the man turned his brilliant green eyes to the door, catching sight of the instructor eavesdropping like a meddlesome first year. The man, Harry Potter, turned back to the Gryffindor and apparently dismissed the boy, waving to him as the child rushed away with his robes billowing behind him.

Not knowing what else to do, the embarrassed teacher opened the door to meet his former rival head-on. To be caught in such a position…he shook his head and looked up, only to meet the smiling eyes of "the Man Who Lived Again."

"Taking a break, Malfoy? Those essays can get long," the hero commented with a grin. "You need to be more careful, though, or else people will think you're switching houses on us," Potter motioned down to Draco's hand before continuing. "While I wouldn't mind your becoming more involved with Gryffindor, I'm not so sure the students would appreciate it."

Draco's face turned nearly as bright a red as his hand as the DADA instructor made his way down the hall, which was fast beginning to fill with students heading to their next class. He stood aside to allow his next group of students, a third year Slytherin and Gryffindor mix, to enter as he tried to make his face return to its normal shade. A few students cast wary or amused looks at their teacher having seen Potter walk away and knowing the history of hostility between the two former classmates.

Halfway through his circuit of the room and examining of the cauldrons of potions, the strange feelings returned, as they had after what he called "the Incident." Suddenly shaky on his feet, the teacher made his way to his desk and sat, head in hands. The air in the dungeon was cool; there was no excuse for him to feel so warm. It wasn't like last time where he could blame it on the fever he'd gotten from an hour spent in the cold rain. Potter wouldn't _mind_ him in Gryffindor?

As his face heated up even more, Draco half-groaned, exasperation heavy in the sound. Students stared in surprise, some even jumped, when the voice of their potions instructor reverberated through the room. More than a few cauldrons bubbled over or, in the case of one particularly unfortunate student, exploded in a way worthy of Neville Longbottom, as each student tried to wrap his mind around the fact that the school's most intimidating teacher since Snape himself had just, in the presence of students, yelled the words "Stupid Gryffindor prat!!"

**A/N: You may or may not notice, but I have edited the story a bit. Just so you know. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter….but I wish I did….sigh**

**Glimpses**: A Close Encounter at Third Look

Saturday morning found Draco Malfoy standing precariously atop a three foot stool, balanced on the tips of his toes to better view the titles of the dusty tomes on the top most shelf of the library's restricted section. That was a perk about his job: he didn't need permission to check out the books in this section anymore, which was really good because he needed a major distraction from his thoughts lately.

He ran his fingers along the dust-covered spines of the books looking for a likely one to pull his mind away from green eyes and messy black hair. Draco had pulled his finger away and was grimacing at the dust he had collected on its tip when he heard the door to the library open and the sounds of someone having a hushed conversation with Madame Pince.

Almost freezing on the spot, the potions master listened carefully, straining to catch the sound of the new-comer's voice. He couldn't make it out, however, and soon the door opened again as someone left. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and turned once more to examining the titles of the books.

A few moments later, he found a particularly promising book on dangerous magical maladies and the rare potions that could cure them. Reaching up to withdraw the book from amongst the others, he glimpsed a nearby movement from the corner of his eye. Draco forgot his somewhat unstable position and swiftly turned to see who had dared sneak up on the school's potions master, losing his balance in the process.

As he fell, he caught a flash of black hair and felt the brief sensation of being held aloft in strong arms before landing in an undignified heap atop his would-be rescuer. Groaning, he sat up only to be knocked back down when the book he'd been so intent on reading fell off the shelf and hit him sharply on the head.

The grey-eyed man gripped his head, cradling the tender spot and muttering, "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. Merlin! That hurt!" A laugh rose up from beneath him and the man jolted from his thoughts when Draco realized he was still sitting on whoever had tried to catch him. To top it off the person's arm was still wrapped snugly around his waist and seemed to be the cause of an unusually warm sensation that was quickly spreading through his body.

Blushing as red as a Weasley's hair, the blonde scrambled to get off the man, for he could tell it was a man by the deep laugh that caused shivers to run up his spine, yet another new and unfathomable sensation. Draco turned to meet the laughing green eyes of his one-time adversary and, of recent, his cushion.

As Potter kept laughing, the potions instructor's face turned even brighter shades of red, something he would not have thought possible. What could possibly be more red than a Weasley's hair? The brunette laughed to the point that he had to wipe the moisture from his eyes before finally calming down enough to look at his fellow teacher.

Draco tried to glare at the war hero but became confused when his heart began to beat more heavily in his chest at the sight of the man's too-bright eyes and reddened cheeks. So intent was he on trying to discover the reason for this sudden pounding, (maybe it was the adrenalin?), Draco started at the sound of Harry Potter's voice intruding upon his thoughts.

"That was fun, huh? No one who'd look at you would know you were so heavy," the DADA professor snickered. "Anyhow, you should be more careful. What if I'm not here the next time you fall?" Reaching over, Potter lifted the book that had hit on Draco and examined the front cover with a raised brow before passing it to the other man.

Then he stood up, dusted himself off and ran a hand through his ever-messy hair, seemingly unaware or maybe just uncaring of the sloppy state of his clothing. "Anyway, it was nice to hear your voice again. You haven't spoken to me since the end of the war and I was beginning to think you couldn't talk anymore."

He paused for a moment to look down at the still sitting and speechless blonde. "Of course, there are rumors, and the kids keep whispering in the halls about a certain professor suddenly bursting out of silence to curse another professor. Those are always fun to listen to. Wonder who they could be talking about, hmm?"

At this, Potter winked at him and turned to leave, greeting Madame Pince at the door before striding out of the library. The old witch sent Draco a disapproving look for his position on the floor next to the overturned footstool before resuming her usual position behind the librarian's desk.

The potions master stood slowly and righted the stool before picking up his book and making his way to one of the many empty tables. It was a Saturday after all and students had better things to do than study. He tried to focus on the words in the book laid out before him but only managed to see the look on Potter's face when he'd winked at him.

So the great Harry Potter thought he was _heavy_? Groaning loudly, he leaned back in his chair and vigorously rubbed his face as if the brisk movement could remove the red tint that seemed to have settled there. Wait. Potter said it had been nice hearing him talk. Blood rushed back up into Draco's face as he blushed fiercely in remembrance.

Moments later, having been kicked out the library, he walked with as much dignity as he could past a giggling Hermione Weasley and a confused Ron Weasley, who were both trying to be sure they had not just imagined what they had seen. They had been witnesses to a teacher being thrown almost bodily out of the library just as the echoes were fading from the hall. There could be no doubt as to who had yelled out, from inside the library no less, the words "Damn that dim-witted Gryffindor!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I would own Harry Potter if I were J.K. Rowling…..but since I'm not, I don't. Sigh.**

**Glimpses**: Four eyes

Draco Malfoy carefully placed the last vial of potion into the box, and then heaved a frustrated sigh. This was a job that would have been completed the day before had it not been for his forth year Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff class. He shook his head, blonde strands of hair floating about his ears, as he remembered the event.

He could understand why the Slytherins and Gryffindors were constantly at each others' throats; he had been one a mere three years ago. But Ravenclaws he would never understand. What started as an academic disagreement between two potions partners had somehow escalated into a full-fledged fight. The potions master himself had been caught in the ensuing chaos and had become doused in a mess of potions so mixed together that he still could not figure out which particular one had caused the rather itchy blue and green feathers to sprout up and down his arms.

Fortunately, he had been able to reverse its effects and was now sporting his normal smooth skin. Unfortunately, the entire box of potions he meant to take to Poppy that evening, to restock her mediwitch's cupboard, had been ruined in the process. Never had Ravenclaw lost so many points in a single hour.

Draco had spent the entire night making the potions again. Luckily, the potions were fairly simple to make but with so many……He sighed heavily. Hefting the heavy box into his arms, Draco began to make his way through the halls to the hospital wing. At least it was lunch time and all the students were otherwise occupied with gorging themselves on the choices Hogwarts' kitchen had to offer.

The halls were empty and he reached the ward in a relatively short time. He took the box to the storeroom, nodding to the mediwitch as he passed, and completed the task of putting each in its place. Poppy was picky about that, he had learned. Once finished, he made to leave but was way-laid by the bustling nurse.

"Professor Malfoy, I have an emergency to attend to at St. Mungo's. Could you do me the favor of watching over the infirmary for me?" Before he could think of a suitable way to decline, Draco found himself quite alone.

The blonde man gritted his teeth in annoyance. He wanted to spend his next few free periods asleep. Now he was stuck here, with nothing to do but watch some Ravenclaw girl with a tummy-ache moan and groan in the corner bed. Letting loose a frustrated sigh, something he seemed to be doing a lot of lately, he sat on the edge of the nearest bed and tried to think of how this day might have been worse.

The sleepy man had come up with thirteen different possibilities, most of which involved a certain dark-haired DADA instructor, before succumbing to the darkness of sleep that beckoned and, lying comfortably on the sterile sheets, he fell into slumber.

When next he woke, it was to see darkness outside the tall windows at the opposite end of the room. Slowly sitting upright, Draco stretched, covered a yawn and wiped the sleep from his eyes. A low chuckle drifted toward him and he turned, catching a gleam of light reflecting through the darkness. Focusing on that light, the potions professor called out in his most calm voice, "Who's there?"

Some of his panic must have crept into the two words because another chuckle sounded from the darkness. "Don't you know who I am, Malfoy?" Draco could feel all the blood drain from his face. It couldn't be him. He was dead, wasn't he? He couldn't come back, couldn't threaten him anymore, couldn't threaten his family anymore. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried not to remember the screams, the cries of pain and…..and….Someone gripped his shoulders and shook none-too-gently. "Malfoy! Snap out of it!"

Draco's eyes popped open and he stared ahead for a moment, trying to concentrate, to see who was with him. Slowly, he was able to focus on the emerald green eyes staring into his with concern. Even more slowly, he realized what had happened.

Anger flared in his eyes, blood rushed to his cheeks and he shoved away the shorter man, standing as the other fell to the floor. "That wasn't funny, you bastard! How could you do something like that?!" He was breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring, and had turned to leave when he was grabbed and shoved back into sitting on the bed.

A very irate Harry Potter stood before him, glaring down in the same way he must have looked at Voldemort before his final battle. "I was worried about you!" he exclaimed. "All the students could talk about was your absence from classes! I've been looking for you for hours! Merlin, Malfoy! I thought you'd recognize my voice by now. How was I to know you'd freak out like that?"

Potter's face softened and he knelt down in front of the bed, looking up into Draco's gray eyes. "I'm really, really sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, Malfoy." His former rival reached up, brushed the hair out of Draco's face and lifted the taller man's head so their eyes could meet. "Forgive me?"

Draco was confused. He had broken down in front of Potter, the one person he would not have chosen to witness his lapse in composure. He should feel more than angry, yet looking into the apologetic eyes of the man on his knees before him, Draco couldn't help but feel that anger drain away until nothing of it was left. Closing his eyes, he gave a brief but tired nod and was immediately caught up in a huge hug.

The professor's eyes popped open in shock. Just as quickly as he'd been grabbed, he was released. Potter grinned at him and said, "You know, it was good that you woke when you did. I was wondering how best to wake you and had just settled to go about it Sleeping Beauty style." Here, he injected a sigh of reluctance. "Oh, well. There's always next time, eh, Malfoy?" Then he left, tossing one last grin and a wink over his shoulder.

Draco sat alone on the bed. What had just happened? What did it mean to wake somebody 'Sleeping Beauty style'? Thinking about this question for a moment, he began to feel warm. Too warm, in fact. He pressed a hand to his chest as his heart began to pound. It always happened with him!

Draco felt the heat on his face and knew he was blushing again. He didn't see the Ravenclaw's face peeking between the curtains. He didn't see the blush that had reddened her cheeks when her DADA professor pulled her potions master into his arms. And he didn't hear the creak of the mattress frame when she jumped at the voice that echoed to the ceiling of the hospital wing. As the heavy door to the wing hit home, he didn't see the smile on her face as she contemplated all possible meanings of the words "That idiot Gryffindor git!"

**A/N: Review? Still wanting to know what you think here. Thanks, y'all!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters.**

**Glimpses**: The fifth peek across potatoes

By: Kaoru2.50

When Saturday afternoon came, Draco Malfoy woke early from a nap filled with dreams he'd rather not revisit, thank you very much. The past three days had been spent trying to avoid a certain messy-haired colleague but that did not, by any measure, mean that the same man had not dominated Draco's thoughts for the last 72 hours, waking or sleeping.

He quickly straightened his clothing, trying not to admit to the effect the dreams had on him, or any part of him. Then he sat at his desk. Lunch wouldn't start for another hour, so he had time to try and figure out the mysterious feelings that came whenever Draco was near Harry Potter. The potions professor had always worked better when he was organized so he decided to make a list. Several moments of rustling paper and clinking inkbottles later, he was ready to start. For the next twenty minutes, the sounds of the quill scratching on paper were the only noises in the room.

When the list was complete, Draco sat back to examine it as a whole. First was the strange tingling sensation he got when Potter touched him. This was one he'd been trying to figure out for some time. Draco frowned as he thought about the experiment that had been required for this one.

He was not a touchy-feely person and everyone knew that fact. Potter was, in actuality, the only person who had touched him in any way in the past year. Somehow, though, he didn't think a hug from his mother counted so it was probably longer. The experiment had taken a few days to work successfully and the results were less than satisfactory. Not only had he discovered that only Potter's touch could make his skin tingle, but he found himself with a whole new reason to avoid the faculty lounge. The blonde shook himself slightly and looked back down to his list.

Second on it was the unsettling feeling in his stomach. That one had been easy to figure out. It only came when he was near to Potter or when he thought about him overmuch. That could be explained away as nausea brought on by the intense dislike he held for the DADA professor. Only, it didn't explain why the feeling took so long to come after being touched by the man or why it didn't make him feel as though he would be sick. The former Slytherin sighed. This was not going well at all.

The third item was the fact that he always seemed to blush whenever he was near Potter. Or thinking about him. Or after talking to him. Or after being touched by him. Or when he even saw the prat. Draco leaned his head against his hand, tapping the quill against the parchment with his free one. This was a bit confusing. Never had he blushed so much in his life. He seemed to turn into some sort of tomato when it came to Potter. Even now, he could feel his face heat up and knew that his normally pale skin was once more a brilliant shade of red. Growling his frustration, Draco shoved a hand into his hair and almost crushed the quill in his other hand.

The next and fourth item was the fact that he could never seem to talk to the man. Anytime they were together, the normally witty potions master became speechless. Draco groaned. He could toss insults like a pitcher could baseballs, always hitting the intended target; he could laugh and joke and socialize with the most elite members of society; he could lead a class and direct students with ease. He could discuss the finer points of every subject with every one of his colleagues but when it came to having a simple chat with the bloody 'Boy who lived', he couldn't summon a single word.

Draco suddenly stood from his desk and stalked to the door of his room. Damn the list anyway. All he'd discovered was that when it came to Harry Potter, he transformed into a speechless, tingling, red-faced being plagued by a nausea that it seemed only distance could cure. How annoying.

Sending one last withering glare to the innocent piece of parchment, the potions instructor stormed out of his sleeping chambers, down the hall, up the stairs and into the Great Hall, where he was hit in the face with a rather large scoop of mashed potatoes. The Great Hall, which had been roaring with the noise of voices mere moments before, fell silent.

A collective gasp echoed though the Hall as Draco reached up in shock and wiped the white mush out of his eyes and looked down at it on his hand. Looking around at each of the tables, the potions master realized he must have walked in right in the middle of a food fight, a rare occurrence at Hogwarts. Food dripped out of the hands of several students who had been preparing to throw the next volley. Students, teachers, tables, walls, and floors were covered in splotches of mixed foods. It was, put nicely, a disaster area.

Draco sighed and began to walk to the faculty table, where he knew a clean napkin would be waiting. Halfway there, he slipped on a pile of chocolate pudding and, much to the amusement of the students, fell to the floor. Laughter rang out, almost deafening from the previous silence. Draco scowled but none of the students noticed. As he stood and began to make his way more carefully to his chair, the former Slytherin began to plot his revenge. He was a teacher after all, and he did set his own curriculum. He would have the last laugh.

Almost as soon as he was seated, the food fight began again. _How nice of them to wait,_ he thought angrily as he bolted from the chair, only just missing being hit by a handful of peach cobbler. Ducking beneath the table, Draco wondered how McGonagall could stand for it, but a quick look confirmed that not only was she accepting this food fight, she was participating.

He could see McGonagall's face split into a grin as she ducked a flying biscuit. The stunned professor watched as the normally staid Headmistress erupted into a laugh when the biscuit hit Flitwick instead, knocking the tiny man from his chair. Draco shook his head. This was ridiculous. A handful of green beans hit home near his hand and the blonde decided it was time for a change of position.

Quickly, he crawled to hide behind the large chair that normally held Hagrid and that had been knocked to the floor when the half-giant had joined in on the fight. Draco crouched behind the chair and tried to wipe the potatoes off his face. When he felt he'd gotten most of it off, he chanced a look over the top of the chair. It seemed as though most of the food fighting had stopped and the noise level had dropped slightly.

He looked over at the Headmistress and saw her holding her hands above her head in a manner that brought Dumbledore to mind. Draco could swear he even saw a twinkle in her eyes and shook his head to rid himself of the idea. He would draw the line at that.

In any case, the food fight slowed to a stop and he heard McGonagall remind the students of this afternoon's trip to Hogsmeade and suggest a quick shower before leaving.

As the sounds of cheers and laughter echoed through the hall, Draco caught a brief glance of Potter's face before it disappeared behind the older woman. He'd been laughing and had been wiping something brown from his cheek. The potions master felt himself blush and hastily turned to another direction. He stood from his spot and began to straighten his robes, soiled as they were from food.

He left the faculty dais and was about to join the students in leaving when he heard Potter's voice call to him. The blonde man took a deep, steadying breath and turned, prepared to throw a scathing insult at the man, but instead found himself almost jumping back as he realized just how close the shorter man was standing to him. Potter, covered from head to toe in an assortment of foods, stood laughing a mere foot from him. The teacher found himself speechless, unable to insult the man.

Harry Potter grinned up at him and said "You missed all the fun, Malfoy! You should have seen the look on your face though, when those potatoes got you." Potter almost broke down in laughter again as Draco's face turned a deep red. His voice got suddenly softer and he leaned forward conspiratorially. "I know who threw them though. Would you like to know?"

The taller man, thinking of the fun he would have if he knew the culprit, nodded and leaned forward. Potter's voice sounded low in his ear as he whispered, "The one who threw the potatoes that hit you was…me." Then Draco jumped as the DADA professor licked a bit of potato off his cheek. The potions master's hand flew to his face and covered the spot as he stared shocked, at the brunette, whose finger rose up to wipe a bit of the brown sauce off his cheek and into his mouth. Then the hero of the wizarding world grinned up at Draco and said, "I love mashed potatoes and brown gravy, don't you?" before joining the crowds of giggling students walking to the door.

Several students jumped, and a few students even slipped on splatters of thrown food, when a voice rose above all the noise, reaching to the high ceiling of the great hall. Harry Potter's grin widened and he laughed as he exited, the taste of potatoes and Malfoy's skin still in his mouth. Many of the professors, including the hero's best friends, smiled at the words that echoed long after the one who had uttered them left the room through a rarely used side door next to the faculty table. For the rest of the day, those visiting Hogsmeade discussed Professor Malfoy and made up their own rumors as to why he would stand in the middle of the Great Hall and yell the words, "You damn annoying Gryffindor!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Well, I don't own anything but the plot.**

**Glimpses:** The sixth peek

By: Kaoru2.50

Draco Malfoy groaned loudly as he dropped his head against the table. His action inspired a giggle from the room's other occupant. The blonde man glared at her for a moment before hitting his head against the desk a few more times.

Monday morning was the first time he could bring himself to look at the twice-damned list again. He had started with the fifth point, choosing not to re-evaluate his conclusions on the previous four. This one had been about his reaction to Potter's laugh. It sent shivers down his back and nothing had ever done that before. Well, except being anywhere near the Dark Lord, but this was an entirely different feeling. It wasn't cold fear that tingled down his spine, it was something else. Something he couldn't figure out.

That was when he decided to do something he had never done before. The proud aristocrat grabbed his list and, sending yet another of many disgusted looks at it, left his quarters. Moments later, he had been knocking on the office door of a colleague. When the door opened to reveal a young woman with bushy brown hair, he couldn't bring himself to say the words he'd rehearsed since leaving the dungeons. Hermione Weasley had understood though, had taken one look at the man's face before dismissing a student with whom she had been discussing proper transfiguring technique.

He walked into Weasley's office. It still felt strange to call her that, but she wasn't exactly a Granger anymore and 'Mudblood' was out of the question. It was a word he hadn't uttered in more than three years. Draco's thoughts on what to call the woman were interrupted by her voice.

"Okay, what's the deal, Malfoy?" For a minute or so, Draco only looked back at his fellow teacher. She stood standing with her hands on her hips, a brow quirked over one her brown eyes. He decided that she'd been hanging out with the Weasleys for far too long. Something in his thoughts must've shown on his face because the transfigurations teacher sighed, dropped her hands, rolled her eyes, and finally motioned Draco towards a chair.

When he was comfortably ensconced in his seat, Weasley sat down across the desk from him. The look on her face told him to start when he was ready. Draco took a deep breath. "Alright, Weasley. I came because….because…" He cleared his throat and looked away from her piercing brown gaze. "I came because I need help and you're still the smartest witch I've ever met. Much as it pains me to admit."

Weasley nodded. She knew she was intelligent after all. "So, Malfoy, what's so great a problem that you couldn't figure it out on your own?"

Draco sighed. If this was going to work, he'd have to pretend that this was not the woman he had hated and envied throughout his years at school. It was just a counselor. Just a counselor who happened to be the only person to score better than him in any subject, that's all. "It's not a problem, really…more like…more like an annoyance?"

Weasley quirked a brow at him again. "Are you asking me or telling me?" she countered calmly.

Draco stood and began pacing around the room in frustration. "I don't _know_ what it is! That's why I'm here. I thought if even _I_ couldn't figure it out surely you could." He stopped pacing long enough to toss the scroll at his former classmate before resuming his circuit of the room. "That…that is a list I've made. Everything on it is….something that happens whenever I'm around …..around…."

Draco stopped, blushing. He didn't want to say it and he wouldn't look at his colleague either. He almost jumped at the quiet voice from behind him. "Whenever you're around Harry?"

The potions master nodded then turned back to face the woman he had once found so insufferable. "Yes. And I don't understand why! I don't understand what it means!" He sat back down in the chair. Hermione was examining the list and mumbling to herself. Eventually, she looked back up and met his worried silver gaze with a smile. "There something wrong with me isn't there?" he asked with a groan.

It was at this point that he dropped his head to the table, which caused Hermione to giggle, resulting in the glare and the few added hits to his head. "Okay, alright already," Hermione laughed.

Draco glared. "It's _not _funny," he stressed through clenched teeth. A sigh came from the bushy-haired teacher.

"Do you want me to help or not. Because if you do you need to stop being so short with me." She glared at him for a moment before her face softened. "Now, I know what's wrong with you and before you say anything," she held up her hand to stop the questions that were on the tip of Draco's tongue, "it's not bad." The witch looked back down at the list. "In fact, it could be very good."

When nothing more came from her, Draco growled in the back of his throat. "Well," he said stiffly, "what is it?"

Hermione looked up as though she'd forgotten he was there. "Oh, um. Well, I'm not too sure I should tell you right now. I don't think I should be the one to tell you at all actually."

Draco's eyes flared wide. "What?! Then what in Merlin's name was the point in coming here?!" He stood angrily and leaned forward, bracing his hands on the cool wood of the cluttered desk.

Hermione stood as well and glared back just as fiercely. "I didn't make you come here. You did that on your own!" she replied testily. "Besides, this is really something between you and Harry. Go and tell him what's going on. I'm sure he'll be _extremely _happy to explain it to you, you clueless fool!"

With that said she pushed him to the door and shoved him out before slamming it in his face. "Hey!" Draco called out and was pleased when the door opened. He barely had time to catch his list before it slammed again. He growled in anger before setting off down the halls. His first class of the day would be starting soon anyway.

He saw the hand for a brief moment before he was pulled into a small alcove and a heavy tapestry was released to cover the spot. Draco flailed about frantically against the arm that was wrapped around his chest before he heard a familiar chuckle and felt the same shiver creep up his back. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Potter?" he asked, anger lacing the words.

Potter didn't answer except to say "_Lumos,_" lighting the hidden spot with the faint blue glow. "Well, Potter?" Draco struggled a bit more against the restricting arm before giving up. The man was smaller than him. It was annoying how strong he was, and to top it all off, that damn tingling sensation was coming back.

Potter let him go, but blocked the only exit. "I heard you yelling all the way down the hall. I'm hurt, Malfoy. I thought I was the only one you yelled at."

Draco rolled his eyes at the mock pout on Potter's face. "Yeah, well, I had something to discuss with Weasley," the taller man said uneasily and avoided looking at the green eyes staring directly at him.

Potter crinkled his nose in thought, Draco blushed, angry at himself for noticing it. "Why the hell would you want to talk to Ron?" he asked in confusion.

"What?!" Draco said shocked. "Ron? Merlin, Potter! I was talking to his wife! To _Hermione_ Weasley!" The blonde shook his head, almost gagging at the thought of having had the same discussion with the red head as he'd had with his wife.

Potter waved a hand. "Oh, yeah. Sometimes I forget they have the same name now." Potter slanted a look at him. Draco turned instantly suspicious. "Well," said the shorter man.

"Well, what?" Draco asked, trying to stall the inevitable.

"Well, what did you guys talk about?" Draco looked away refusing to answer. "Hmm…" the hero started, "did you talk about students?" Draco could feel Potter's eyes on his face in the dim light and tried to school his features into a mask of disinterest. "No," the man said, "not students. Ron?...No, not him either. The curriculum for next year? No. Shoe shopping?" He laughed at the look of disgust on Draco's face. "Nope, didn't think so. So, what could you two have been talking about?"

The potions instructor unconsciously gripped the scroll in his hand a bit tighter, The sharp-eyed former seeker caught the small movement and realized its significance. "Ah," he said. "That's what you guys were talking about." Draco tried to escape again, but his schoolyard rival refused to let him, pressing closer forward and forcing the agitated former Slytherin up against the wall to avoid touching the man in front of him.

"What's wrong, Malfoy? Not going to tell me what's on the paper?" Potter's voiced dropped to a whisper as he came forward still more so that his shorter frame was within an inch of contact with Draco's taller one. The he leaned up and whispered in the blonde professor's ear, his breath ghosting over Draco's pale skin and sending the tingling feeling through his whole body.

Draco bit his lip, eyes wide with the sudden realization that he was stifling a moan. A moan! Inspired by the bloody savior of the world! "Or maybe you don't want me to know because it's about me."

Draco froze, not even daring to breathe. A husky chuckle came from the DADA teacher. The potions master watched in shock as the man slipped an arm around either side of him and gasped when he felt Potter's entire body pressed close to his. "I don't mind," he heard the hero say. "But if you won't tell me, I get to do this."

Before Draco could ask what 'this' meant, he felt cool lips pressed against his own. He couldn't move. He had no where to go and to top it off, he had no desire to even move. Potter was kissing him and all he wanted was to stay there. Somehow he couldn't even summon the proper amount of shock at the thought.

Potter's lips moved against his and Draco couldn't hold back the groan that rose from his throat. His eyes drifted shut and he felt the brunette's smile before Potter's tongue slid out to trace his lower lip. The potions master gasped and the other man's tongue found his way into his mouth. Draco sighed contentedly as he felt Potter's tongue come into contact with his own.

He dropped his list and reached up to grasp the robes that covered the body pressed against his. That tongue was causing the most delicious sensations, and not just in his mouth. He heard a moan and thought it came from him but he couldn't be sure. When Potter pushed himself away, Draco wanted to pull him back but the shorter man resisted, leaning heavily on his arms and gasping for breath. "That was….that was…. Wow." Draco nodded. Truer words were never spoken.

Potter's arms dropped to his side and Draco frowned at the sudden loss of warmth. He reached out to grab Potter's sleeve and stopped short. His eyes widened as he crashed back to reality. He, Draco Malfoy, had been standing in a dark alcove, in the middle of a school day, with his next class even now heading to lessons, snogging none other than the "boy who lived," Harry Potter. Not only that, but he actually wanted to do it again!

His silver eyes collided with Potter's green ones and he registered the look in them, filing it away for closer examination later. The dark-haired man reached up and placed his hand against Draco's cheek, thumb rubbing across his ear. "Well, Malfoy. That was…tasty." His fingers dropped to Draco's lips. "We will _definitely_ have to do this again." Potter dropped his hand and covered his former rival's lips with his own one more time before walking from behind the tapestry out into the hall.

Draco slowly followed. He stopped next to Hermione's door again, but decided to continue to his own room. He now had the answer he'd been looking for. Besides, he had a little bit of a problem to take care of before he could talk to anyone. He passed by his own class and waved his wand toward the board filling it with instructions, before demanding, in a slightly strained voice, that the students get to work.

His late Monday morning class was a Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw first year mix so it wasn't entirely unsurprising that two fainted and three others overturned their cauldrons and had to be carried to the Hospital wing for aid from Madame Pomphrey, who rolled her eyes when she discovered cause.

Ron Weasley stood outside preparing to instruct first years in yet another lesson in flying when he heard the yell echoing through a nearby window. He laughed as his students looked around in confusion. Hermione Weasley, three stories up and standing before a group of seventh years who knew exactly what the yell meant, blushed a brilliant shade of red but continued on with her lesson as if nothing had happened. Luna Lovegood, on a stroll with her soon-to-be-husband, smiled softly at the confusion that covered Neville's face. There was no need to ask why the yell had come. The meaning was clear, to Luna at least, in the words "Damn stupid Gryffindor half-wit!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Yeah, well, I still don't own the characters…or the place. Just the plot.**

**Glimpses:** Sneaking a Seventh Peek

By: Kaoru2.50

Draco Malfoy peeked cautiously from around a corner, hoping to find the hallway empty. It was Saturday afternoon, four whole days after his encounter with Potter in the alcove, and he hadn't had a moment of peace since then. He growled softly as he thought about the reason.

Being gay in the wizarding world wasn't a big deal really. Wizards were a lot more opened minded about that sort of thing and it wasn't as though he had tried to hide his sexuality from the world. Had anyone ever actually asked his sexual orientation, Draco would have given an honest answer, because it really didn't matter. The problem was the female students. How was it possible for every one of them to be a fan girl of gay men?

Determining the corridor to be safe, meaning empty of any soul living or dead, he hurried down it, hugging the wall and hiding in shadows. If the girls were _normal _fangirls, all the precautions wouldn't be necessary. But, no. They were _rabid_ fangirls, obsessed with finding him in a compromising position with Harry Potter.

He couldn't even hide out in his quarters anymore. He'd discovered they'd been, well, violated was the word that came to mind. Several items of clothing were missing, including his favorite pair of boxers, and the potions master shuddered at the thought of what the fanatical nitwits intended to do with them.

He wouldn't have to be creeping around like a student out after curfew, except his wand had been stolen at some point during his last class. Damn the Slytherins anyway. Did they have no loyalty at all to their Head Teacher? The instructor was pretty sure that one of his male students had taken it. Draco hadn't let a female student anywhere near his desk since that horrifying incident Thursday morning. The boy would probably sell it, for a hefty price too, and what the fangirl who bought it would do with it was another of those things the blond didn't want to know.

Carefully, he made his way down the stairs to the second floor. His sharp intake of breath sounded loud to his ears as he heard the creak of the steps. Draco glanced over his shoulder before hurrying on his way. He had a certain location in mind. A place no one would ever find him, which was exactly what he needed. The potions instructor may have inherited the Malfoy fortune and he may get a rather exorbitant salary to teach at Hogwarts, but that did not mean he wanted to spend all his wealth buying new robes every time the students mobbed him!

The teacher's sigh of relief echoed through the room as soon as the door shut. He was safe now. Glancing around the girl's second floor restroom, the former Slytherin was assaulted by memories. It was here where he had first met the one he could confide in, one of the only people to have seen him cry. The same person that made this place the most avoided room in Hogwarts. It was also where he'd been discovered by Potter in his sixth year. He'd never quite gotten over the mortification of that moment, even if the pain had faded long ago. Draco lifted his hand and felt the scar on his chest through his shirt. One day, he'd have to thank the man. If it weren't for him and the spell that had caused the scar, Draco would never have, well, seen the light, so to speak.

Pushing himself off the door, Draco walked toward one of the sinks. He looked in the mirror and noted the paleness of his skin. That wasn't just from memories, he knew, the damn fangirls had swarmed so much he hadn't eaten properly in days. Of course, everything would be back to normal if McGonagall would just return from her trip to the ministry, but no! She had to extend her damn stay.

The blond turned and leaned against the edge of the sink. "Myrtle," he called. Draco waited a few moments then heard the sound of rushing water. Quite suddenly, the ghost he'd befriended years ago was floating before him, pouting.

"Draco Malfoy," she cried mournfully. "I've been waiting for you to come visit! It's been years…I thought you'd forgotten me." The ghost sighed heavily. "Or maybe you just don't like me anymore. No one ever does, you know. They all make fun of me."

Draco smiled. It had been a long time since he'd heard Myrtle's tirade. "Myrtle, don't be sad. I need your help." The change this statement brought in the ghost was clearly visible on her face. A silver blush of pleasure crept over her cheeks and she nodded almost happily.

Draco fell into the familiar routine, one he hadn't followed since before the war, of telling all his troubles to the depressed ghost. When he'd finished, rounding his tale off with a sharp curse at female mentality, present company excluded of course, Draco looked up to Myrtle's face. She wasn't looking at him though, was instead watching the door. He turned and found out why.

Harry Potter stood half concealed by the shadows in the waning light of evening. The potions master was overcome by the odd sense of déjà vu the moment inspired. Potter walked toward him, his face more sober than the potions instructor had seen in a long time. When the shorter man stood directly before him, Myrtle looking on quietly, Draco asked the question that had been burning in his mind since Tuesday. "Why?"

Potter's green eyes met Draco's own gray ones. Draco held his breath. He felt as though his body was on fire, and that just from standing a foot from the man. He knew the thrice-damned blush was rising up, spreading from his ears to his face and neck. His stomach felt as though a thousand butterflies hyped up on sugar were swirling in dizzy circles though it. He couldn't even begin to figure out why all these feelings were coming at once and so strongly, in this particular girl's restroom out of all the rooms at Hogwarts. He shivered when he heard Potter's answer. "Because I needed to."

The intensity in the DADA professor's gaze lessened none as he held out his hand. Draco looked down to discover his wand, thought lost forever to a raving fangirl, held loosely between long, tanned fingers. Happily, he reached out to take it, but felt his wrist grabbed instead. His eyes flew up to meet the green eyes of his former rival. He barely had time to recognize the look in the brunet's eyes before he felt himself shoved against the sink, his mouth covered by warm lips that, though had only touched his own once before, felt achingly familiar. Both men ignored the gasp that came from the ghost floating a few feet away.

His initial shock faded and Draco reached up slowly to touch Potter's cheek. How was it possible that one kiss from this man could fill him with so many different feelings? His wrist was released and Draco barely registered a faint clacking sound, his wand falling to the floor. That didn't matter. Potter's hands were tracing patterns on his back, causing tingling sensations and forcing a moan from his throat. He felt the shorter man pull away a bit but Draco grabbed his colleague's robes and pulled him closer, relishing in the sensations that shivered through his body at the soft laugh Potter let out.

The potions master snaked a hand up to the shorter man's dark hair and traced his tongue over Potter's lip. When his former rival opened his mouth, Draco met Potter's warm tongue halfway, rubbing softly over it and marveling at the feeling generated by the contact. He felt himself smiling when Potter groaned and shoved him harder against the porcelain of the bathroom sink. They were pressed together from head to hip and Draco knew, could feel, that Potter was affected the same way.

Slowly, the two pulled apart, and Draco let them. Foreheads leaning together, Draco could feel Potter's sigh against his skin. For a moment, neither said anything, just stared into each others eyes as though searching for something. Potter was the first to break the silence. "You know," he whispered softly, his voice sending delightful shivers down the blond's spine, "when I saw you in here, it reminded me of …of the day I…" He paused seemingly unable to continue, before reaching between them to let loose the top few buttons of Draco's shirt. The brunet slipped his hand inside and traced his fingers carefully over the scar left by the slashing curse he'd cast three years ago.

Draco gasped at the delicious feelings the touch provoked and caught a hint of a smile on Potter's face before he turned serious again. "Gods, I'm sorry Draco. I didn't know what it would do! I swear."

Draco watched as Potter pulled away and bent to retrieve the forgotten wand. He watched as the brunet grabbed his hand and curled his fingers around the wand. But before the man could say what Draco knew was coming, the blond jumped in, whispering softly "Thank you."

Potter froze, staring up into Draco's eyes. "Malfoy?" he asked.

Draco shook his head. "It's just something I've been meaning to say. Thanks for the wake-up call. I don't want to think about…about what would've happened if I had stuck to the path my father laid out for me. If not for you, I would've. So thank you."

The two men stared at each other for a moment. Draco was blushing and he wondered if maybe it was a serious skin condition he should get examined. Then Potter smiled, a return of the grin the potions instructor had become familiar with over the past few weeks. "Well, Malfoy, be sure to thank Hermione. She's the one who got your wand back for you." He looked around the restroom. "Nice hiding place you got here. Perfect for escaping from the hordes of crazy students chasing us." Potter grinned slyly at Malfoy. "You know, I don't think I've had this much exercise in a while." The dark haired professor stepped close to Draco and leaned up so that their lips were just barely touching. "I think I could use a different sort of exercise."

With that, the man pressed his lips to Draco's once more before moving them to whisper in the taller man's ear, his breath sending strands of blond to tickle against the pale skin of Draco's neck. "Hermione told me. She said she shouldn't but I made her tell." Potter pressed an open mouthed kiss to Draco's neck, brushing his tongue over the spot before biting it gently, then soothing it again. The potions master didn't protest, was in fact a bit too preoccupied with the sensations rippling through him. Potter pulled away, hesitating next to the former Slytherin before walking to the door and picking up a cloak from the floor.

The war hero faced Draco and said "I'd be sure to button up to the collar before you leave." He winked, grinning wickedly, and pulled the cloak over him, disappearing. The door opened and Draco knew he'd left the room. The blond Head of Slytherin turned quickly, facing the mirror. His gaze immediately found what he was looking for. Right there, at the base of his neck, near his collar bone, was a hickey.

Moaning Myrtle giggled in a decidedly un-depressed manner as she watched Draco Malfoy run down the hall attempting to escape the rather large crowd of girls chasing him after being alerted to his presence in the restroom by a sudden loud yell. Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas, who had stopped by after their honeymoon to deliver a box of questionable gifts from Fred and George Weasley, laughed outright at the echoes that came down the corridor intermingled with shouts and yells of the students. Hermione Weasley, walking down the hall towards her husband and friends, shook her head and grinned. She wondered if Draco Malfoy, master of words, was running out of insults is the best he could come up with was "That damn bloody Gryffindor prat!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Well, I clearly don't own Harry Potter, else he and Draco would have ended up together long ago and the story would not be near so well written. So, yay for Rowling!**

**Glimpses: Stars, Planets, and an Eighth Encounter**

By the time Wednesday morning came around, the horrible conditions had lessened somewhat. McGonagall had returned Monday night and had dispersed a bit of the fanatical fervor of the girls. It wasn't enough though, which was why Draco Malfoy stood pressed to the stone wall behind one of the long flowing curtains hanging in Luna Lovegood's classroom in the divinations tower.

Draco groaned silently. This was getting ridiculous! Not to mention that shivering behind some curtain was quite possibly the most undignified thing he had ever done. Well, short of the whole "ferret" incident back in forth year…Draco shook his head and listened to the dreamy voice informing a group of fourth year Gryffindor girls the supposed location of their prey. "According to the crystal ball, you will find what you seek…in the trophy room."

The blond heard scuffling and shuffling noises, presumably the girls gathering their belongings, then a chorus of thanks and the sounds of feet running from the slightly stuffy chamber. The door shut and a quick peek around the edge of the curtain proved the room empty except for its teacher. Draco stepped out from behind the curtain and brushed his robes off while trying to find a way to thank the former Ravenclaw. He looked up to find the professor watching him with a small smile.

"What?" he asked defensively. Lovegood's smile widened but she just shook her head.

"Something is coming, is all," she said absentmindedly and walked to sit at one of the round tables littered about her classroom. She looked up and motioned him to sit across from her. Draco rolled his eyes. Divination was a subject for which he held no respect, but he had to thank her for hiding him from the fangirls. After all, there were only two ways out of the tower chamber- the ladder, which had been blocked by the manic students, and the window with a drop several stories long.

So he sat, drank the proffered cup of tea, and allowed the woman formerly known as 'Loony' to read the dregs at the bottom.

Several moments of silence followed, punctuated by the whispers of cloth softly brushing against the wall, curious enough in itself as all the windows were closed and he could feel no discernable breeze. Maybe she put a spell on all the scarves and curtains dangling from the walls and ceiling. His musings were interrupted by her voice calling for his attention and he forced himself to focus on whatever bit of "wisdom" she saw fit to impart upon him. At least she was no where near as melodramatic as Trelawney had been.

"Well, Draco Malfoy, today is a good day." Lovegood looked down at the cup again and Draco wondered what she thought she could see. When her gaze met his, Draco nearly jumped. The slightly foggy, unfocused look that normally shone from her eyes was gone. The look she gave him know was sharp, and he got the distinct feeling that she knew something and wasn't telling. "A very good day." Suddenly the clear look was gone, and the Luna Lovegood he recognized reappeared. "You might like to hide again. The girls are coming," she commented airily.

Draco was up and behind the curtain in a matter of moments. He'd made the mistake of being caught once before, believing himself safe with the return of the Headmistress. It was not an event he would like to undergo twice. A Malfoy he may be, as well as a teacher and war veteran, but Voldemort himself would cower in fear of these girls. Obsession was not a pretty thing, and not something he'd like to face head-on.

As the girls entered and held brief council with the Divinations professor, their potions master stood holding his breath and hidden from view, calmly planning ways to shake the students off his tail. He had come up with and discarded four different plots when he heard one of the girls ask, "Professor? What's that?"

Looking down, he realized that curtain had slid forward and one of his shoes had been revealed. He couldn't hear Lovegood's answer over the shouts of the girls and knew if he didn't get out of there quick, he'd be caught. Again. Merlin help him. He shuddered and decided the drop from the tower was preferable. Quite suddenly, he found himself grabbed by the arm and pulled beneath a cloak, a strong hand over covered his mouth.

The student who'd seen his shoe drew the curtain aside and apparently saw nothing. The former Slytherin watched, unmoving in the arms that held him, as the girl's eyes flicked suspiciously around the small area. Then she shrugged, dropped the curtain and walked back to her friends.

Draco and his rescuer stood still until the door had shut behind the students who had been given instructions not to disturb the professor again as it was time for her daily meditations. "Alright, Harry and Malfoy," Lovegood called over her shoulder. "I'm going to meet Neville for lunch. You two can stay here until my next class." Then she left, making sure the door was locked behind her.

Draco shoved away from the hands that held him, from the body that warmed his and sent waves of emotions and sensations cascading through him. He pulled the cloak off and glanced briefly at Harry Potter before examining the shimmering cloth. It was an invisibility cloak. Amazing.

Even for all his wealth, the potions master had seen only one before, and that was the very one he now held in his hand. He winced as he remembered paralyzing a younger Potter, breaking the boy's nose beneath his boot and covering his frozen body with the cloak. He looked up again, meeting Potter's eyes and realizing that the shorter man had had the cloak with him in the restroom too. So that was how he managed to escape the fangirls every time.

"That's cheating, you know," he stated calmly. "Not all of us have invisibility cloaks to help hide from the- what did you call them," Draco pretended to think then, "Oh, yes, the 'hordes of crazy students'. No wonder they only ever caught me."

The former Gryffindor grinned unrepentantly at him before replying with "Yeah, well, I was once in that tower myself. I know how Gryffindor girls get when they want something."

Draco's grey eyes caught the shudder Potter couldn't stop and smiled. "So this whole business of hiding from…unwanted admirers is nothing new to you, hmm?"

The question earned him a look that clearly said "Duh" before the DADA professor actually answered it. "I'm the 'Boy-Who-Lived', remember?"

Draco chuckled a bit and looked at Potter's face to discover a strange look gracing the brunet's features. "What?" he asked defensively, and could help the feeling that he'd done this before. Oh, yeah, with Lovegood. His thoughts trailed off as he and Potter just stared at each other.

"Do it again," the dark haired man demanded quietly.

Draco frowned, confused. "Do what again?" he asked just as softly.

The potions master didn't move as Potter's hand crept up to slide behind his neck and pulled Draco's head down to within mere inches of his. The blond marveled silently at the difference between the black strands of hair tangling softly with his own light locks. Potter drew him closer and Draco's eyes drifted closed. He felt the shorter man's firm lips brush lightly against his own and almost sighed in pleasure. "Laugh again," the war hero commanded before drawing the taller man into a warm kiss.

This one was chaste, no tongue involved, just a mere touch of lips on lips, but somehow Draco reacted more strongly towards the touch than he had any of their other kisses. His knees buckled, and he would have been horrified at that fact had he noticed. Potter clasped his hands behind his taller companion and lowered them both to the floor, landing softly on the thick cushions that served as chairs to the small round tables. Absently, Draco noted that his fingers had intertwined themselves in the loose cloth of the robe covering Potter's chest and that he could feel the heart beneath it beating almost as fiercely as his own.

Potter leaned back for a moment, long enough for Draco to realize that they had ended up sitting close together on the luxurious cushions, and Potter's hands were still on his lower back, now drawing patterns through his robe and igniting a strangely comforting fire in the pit of the blond's belly. Then the former Golden Boy was kissing him again.

No chaste kiss, the dark-haired man licked Draco lips before plunging his tongue past them and into the warm, damp recesses of Draco's mouth. The blonde moaned and the two fell all the way to the pillows. Harry lay half atop him and Draco had never felt better. What was it? He could taste it, Potter's taste but couldn't identify it as anything. Only Potter had ever tasted like that, so good, warm, and sweet.

He felt one of the hero's hands slip up to tangle in his hair but forgot that completely when the other slipped down to pull the potion master's shirt out of his pants and slide up beneath it, caressing the smooth pale skin of his stomach. Draco gasped and turned his head aside, burying his flushed face in the pillow. Gods! How could he feel like this when Potter touched him? Potter, of all people! Of course, would the do-gooder Gryffindor of his school years do something like this in a classroom? Draco didn't think so, but well…he couldn't exactly deny reality, could he.

Potter kissed along Draco's jaw and down his neck, seemingly unperturbed by the fact that Draco's lips were hidden from his. "Mmm, Malfoy…" he groaned, pausing at the base of Draco's throat. He licked it and the blond's eyes flew open briefly before snapping shut again. Gods! He…Draco moaned softly as Potter continued licking a path down Draco's chest to his navel.

"Malfoy…" Potter called again before dipping his tongue into the small hole. Draco bit his lip and looked down, his eyes meeting the brilliant green ones that tried to gauge his reactions. The shorter man rose slightly up on his arms and reached one hand between them to slide his fingers over the metal buckle of Draco's belt, grinning wickedly.

"Hello again, boys. Quite busy I see. Good, good." Draco froze and could feel the same reaction from the man sitting astride his legs, hands frozen in the act of removing the belt. Both men watched as Luna Lovegood walked into the room, not glancing at them and waving her hand a bit. "Don't mind me. I just forgot something."

Smiling dreamily, she turned and held up a necklace strung with butterbeer caps. Then she walked toward the door, pausing to say "A rather large group of students are headed here now. I suspect someone tipped your fans off to your location. Nice girls. They even have cameras. Isn't that sweet?" Then she was gone, closing the door behind her.

Neither man moved for a moment. Then Potter looked toward Draco, meeting his eyes. "Much as I'd like to continue this, I don't relish the idea of my face on the front papers." He grinned almost painfully and Draco could see why when the other man stood. It seemed as though they had the same problem. Potter reached down and helped the taller man stand, holding him close for a moment before stepping back.

The DADA professor ran a frustrated hand through his dark hair, causing it to stick up even more. Then he tried to flatten it, but it was a hopeless endeavor. Draco laughed softly at the sight and Potter grinned up at him. "I like that." He leaned up and trailed tiny wet kisses up to the potions instructor's ear, one hand splayed on the taller man's chest. "I like it when you laugh. Makes me want you more," Potter murmured quietly in Draco's ear before pulling the lobe between his teeth and giving it a small nip.

He was smiling as he leaned back. "You always taste so good, Malfoy. I'm amazed at my restraint that I don't just lock you up all for myself." The former Golden Boy smiled, almost evilly. "Maybe I will." He licked Draco's lips and pulled away completely. Draco felt the loss of his heat and almost shivered. "Next time though," Potter said as he walked away, picking up his cloak. "And I'd get moving if I were you, Malfoy. I'm sure you don't want to let the kids have anymore pictures of you."

Potter pointed to a broomstick half hidden by the drapes covering a window. Then he put the cloak on and disappeared from view. The door opened enough to let a person pass through. "And you _really_ don't want to know what they do with the ones they already have." Potter's laugh drifted to him even as the door closed.

A group of twenty-nine girls, mixed from all four houses, well-armed with cameras and wands, were running up the stairs when they heard it. The voice had already faded by the time the students arrived in the empty divinations classroom and glared out the window at the figure flying away from them. Harry Potter, invisible and halfway down the stairs gave a small laugh, ignoring the tiny first year girl, strangely resembling Colin Creevy, who jumped and fell down a few steps. Seamus and Dean, who had stayed on for a few days, supposedly to aid Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in their classes, broke apart from a heavy snogging session atop the nearby astronomy tower and laughed at the sight of Draco zooming away from the next tower over, black robes streaming behind him and chest gleaming pale in the afternoon sun. Neither had to wonder at what Malfoy had been doing to make him yell the words, "Stupid arrogant Gryffindor git!"


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Hello. A repost of the chapter, edited a bit

**Disclaimer: Nope. Not mine. All the characters and places belong to Rowling.**

**Glimpses: The Plan**

By: Kaoru2.50

Dark had come and Draco Malfoy, Head of Slytherin House, Potions Professor and powerful aristocrat, finally felt safe enough to come out of hiding and return to his quarters. The students had been chasing him all day and he was exhausted. A man such as himself running from rabid fangirls. Draco snorted in disgust. His father must be turning in his grave.

Thankfully, it was Thursday night and all the students had been forced to return to their common rooms to finish last-minute homework before the weekend. A slightly evil smile spread across the blond's face as he thought of his own contribution to the load: a 52 inch essay on the uses of blagglewort pus and firelily juice due at the beginning of class Friday morning.

Draco walked slowly down the empty corridors, watching the play of moonlight on the floor in front of him. Nighttime was the best time, so quiet and peaceful and devoid of any and all fangirls. He paused to look out a window and saw stars twinkling happily in the deep velvet blue of the sky. It took all his willpower not to stick his tongue out at them. Happy twinkling annoyed him. He preferred a soft sparkle in the cold night.

A sound echoed down the hall and he drew his gaze from contemplation of the stars to look in the direction of the noise. It had come from the shadows at the end of the hall. Holding his breath, he listened to a repeat of the sound and heard whispers of voices. Quietly, he made his way towards the noise. By the time he reached the shadows, his eyes had adjusted enough to allow him to see the two figures crouching next to a hideous statue of an old crone, trying to squeeze a large, lumpy bag through a passageway hidden behind it.

The professor drew his wand to perform a quick stun spell. How stupid did a person have to be to rob a magic school anyway? Before he could utter the words, one of the figures turned and said, "Oi! Fred!" He nudged the man beside him with his elbow before dropping his load and standing. "Look at him! It's the great git himself, Malfoy!"

The other figure turned and stood to face Draco. "Hey! It is!" Wide grins split the identical faces of the Weasley twins as they began to greet their would-be captor in earnest.

"Haven't seen you since the war, mate!"

"Been doing well for yourself here, have you?"

"Ron told us all about your troubles, you know-"

"-wouldn't call them 'troubles' m'self-"

"-but gay men's got no use for school-girls anyway."

"So we tore all around our shop-"

"-and even made some new products-"

"-to see what we could do help you be rid of the pretty little buggers."

"We spent hours and _ages _looking through it all-"

"-but we finished and now here we are!"

The Weasley boys struck a pose, arms held out above their heads and off to their sides. Draco rubbed at his ear wondering if he imagined the 'tah-dah' he thought he'd heard.

Then, Draco could do nothing more than stare gape-mouthed at the two red-headed twins. "Whoa, mate. Fine impression of a fish you got there."

"Yeah, well, truth is we came more to help Harry than you."

"But since it's got you too-"

"-according to 'ickle Ronnie-kins-"

"-and since you helped us so much in the war-"

"-then we can help the both of y…mnnm!"

Quite suddenly, both boys found themselves unable to speak as their mouths had been spelled shut. Draco sighed as he lowered his wand. "Merlin! Is this how you two always are?" Draco groaned at the enthusiastic nods he received. "How on earth did the Gryffindors stand it? It's no wonder they're all such annoying pests, with you two as their idols."

The potions master rolled his eyes at the smug expressions on the twins' faces. "Well, hurry up. Grab your bag and let's find Potter." By the time the twins had finally pulled the bag free, it had snagged on the edge of the statue, and the three began the trip to the DADA classroom, Fred and George Weasley had discovered a new way to annoy without the use of their voice boxes. Draco quickly decided that happy humming from behind was worse than happy twinkling a few thousand light-years away.

The three reached Potter's chambers in record time and Draco sighed in relief when the door came into view. He hadn't even knocked when the door swung open and Potter himself appeared. Green eyes blinked in surprise, staring at the taller man before him. Then Draco felt himself shoved aside and watched with quiet disdain as the Weasley twins began "mmhming" wildly, arms waving and faces turning red with excitement. A small smile curved the edge of Draco's mouth. Potter was moving his gaze back and forth so quickly between the two boys that the potions master wasn't sure his colleague had yet realized what he was looking at.

Then the twins were standing in front of him again, expressions of fake innocence glowing from their faces, begging not-so-silently to be allowed to speak. Draco considered refusing but a mock-glare from Potter convinced him to release the two motor-mouths. Freedom of mouth theirs once more, the twins pounced on Potter, voices ringing out loudly in the emptiness of the halls. Draco watched the twins walk into Potter's quarters and began to walk away feeling that his duty was done. He didn't see it but he felt the hand that reached out the door and dragged him through by the collar of his robes.

The door slammed home behind him and Draco clutched at the front of his clothes, pulling the cloth from his neck and coughing. "You bloody prat!" he yelled turning to face the three former Gryffindors. "That hurt!" The Weasley twins laughed. Draco stared at them for a moment trying to discern any difference between the two boys but could find none. They even laughed the same, the buggers.

He drew his gaze to Potter who, judging from the hand still clinging to the back of his robes, had been the one to pull him into the room. It seemed fitting that he would be the one to suffer a Malfoy death glare, but upon receiving it, the brunet merely smiled and pulled the taller man forward into a brief kiss.

Fred and George Weasley burst into applause and Draco could feel himself turning red. Potter smiled as he released the potions master. "Malfoy, no matter how many times I do that, you still taste…" he paused, searching for a word, then shrugged, saying "amazing" as if unable to come up with anything good enough to describe it and just settling for the next best thing.

"Oh, bravo, Harry. You've got a real way with words, don'cha mate?" said one twin.

"Yeah, he can really turn a phrase," agreed the other. Both rolled their eyes and began to make smooching noises, puckering their lips up at Potter.

The DADA professor shook his head. "Real mature guys. Now what are you two doing here anyway?"

The two red heads immediately snapped straight. "Oh, yeah!"

Draco winced at the unison in which the men spoke. All grown up and acting the same as they did as students. Draco watched as the two turned around to rummage in the sack. He snuck a peek at Potter and felt his face heat up more when he caught the man staring at him. The blond jumped when he felt a warm hand slip around his own, lacing their fingers together.

"Well, we brought us a little bag of goodies-"

"-and we thought we'd see which ones actually help—awww!" The twins had turned in time to see Potter place a soft kiss at the base of Draco's neck. "Lookit the ikkle wuvbirds!"

Draco could feel the blush down to his neck and tried to back away from Potter, but the war hero held a firm grip on his hand. With the Weasley's making annoying little sounds in the background, Draco sent a pleading look to the brunet. Potter smiled and reached up, combing gentle fingers through the potion master's soft hair.

"You know," he whispered, "the moonlight turns you into a statue, all silver and perfect, so cold and warm all at once." Draco was vaguely aware that the twins had stopped their noises; he was lost looking into Potter's brilliant eyes, trying to identify the emotions twirling in their depths. "I love the way your skin feels," Potter's fingers ran down Draco's cheek, softly brushing strands of hair to lay behind his ear. "The way your lips feel against mine." The shorter man slid both arms around the blond's neck, lifting himself to meet Draco's lips, before whispering softly, "The way your hands feel on me…" Draco's hands, almost of their own accord, rose up to graze a soft trail down Potter's sides before sliding behind the brunet, and holding the smaller man close to his body. "The way we fit… perfectly together."

Draco's eyes drifted shut and his senses focused on the feel of Potter against him, mouth to mouth, hip to hip. He could feel tremors vibrating through his body and knew instinctively that they were from Potter.

The Weasley twins all but forgotten, Draco closed his eyes and threw himself into the kiss. For the first time, his tongue entered Potter's mouth and the taste he'd had hints of on the former Golden Boy's tongue were magnified ten-fold. A moan rose up in his throat and he heard an answering one from the man in his arms. Merlin, but 'amazing' just did not cover the feelings!

Potter's hands were in his hair, mussing the normally neat styling. Draco slid one hand around to slip inside Potter's robe. A few brief moments of fiddling with buttons and his hand was caressing the silken skin that covered the brunet's ribs. Potter gasped and turned his face into Draco's shoulder with a slight giggle. How about that. The savior of the wizarding world was ticklish. The potions master chuckled and rested his head against Potter's dark hair.

A bright light flashed and both men turned in its direction, blushing heavily at the sight of the Weasley twins holding a camera. "Aww, George! Did you ever see anything so amazingly sappy?"

"Get the buckets, Fred. We're gonna need 'em." The twins grinned at the two younger men. "Hey, Fred. What color does that particular shade of red remind you of?"

"The time we dumped Percy through the girl's restroom door while his girlfriend was in there changing?"

"No, mate. She wasn't changing. She was snogging the Hufflepuff girl's prefe…"

Harry interrupted, his face once more its normal tan. "Alright, boys. Enough. Give me the camera." Potter held out his held, apparently fully expecting the camera to be handed over. Draco shook his head. From what he'd heard of the twins, there was no way.

The camera disappeared into a puff of smoke in one of the twins' hand. Honestly, who really could tell them apart? "No way, Harry!"

"Yeah, we're saving it for our scrapbook!"

Potter rolled his eyes and sent a long-suffering look to Draco, who smirked just a little. "Fred. George. Focus. What's in the bag?"

One of the twins huffed and put his hands on his hips. "Oh, that's rich. The man who got so distracted with his boy toy over there that he forgot WE were here is telling us to focus."

Draco blushed a deep red. Him? A boy toy?

"That's brilliant. Just bloody brilliant and you'd think-"

"Boys!" Potter yelled. "What's in the bag?"

Without another word, the twins overturned the bag, dumping all its contents to the floor. A few vials rolled away and were quickly caught. "This," said a twin "is our trap."

"Sit down and we'll tell you the plan." The four former Hogwarts students arranged themselves in a circle around the pile of potions, bits of spell ingredients, and other odds and ends. Heads together, Fred and George Weasley, the most infamous pranksters in Hogwarts history, began to lay out their plan to rid Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter of the hordes of students stalking them.

Down the hall, Peeves the ghost dropped a suit of armor in surprise, too early to hit his intended target, Mrs. Norris. He floated swiftly down the hall, cackling maniacally and composing his next song based on the yells he'd heard echoing from the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Filch paid no mind at all to the screams as he cursed Peeves and began cleaning up the bits of bent armor. Ron Weasley, sitting quietly wondering what his prankster brothers meant when they said they were coming for a visit, understood immediately when he heard the words "Daft Gryffindor fools!"

**A/N: Reviews please! Thanks.**


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Whelp, this is it.

**Disclaimer: It's not mine.**

**Glimpses: **One Last Glance

Draco Malfoy scowled fiercely at the women sitting before him. Did they really need to laugh that much? It was annoying and far too loud. Of course, if it weren't for the damn Weasley twins, he wouldn't be here in the first place. His frown darkened as he thought of their plan, if it could be called a plan.

He forgot for a moment that he was not alone and dropped his head to his hands, groaning loudly. The laughter burst out again, louder than before. The potions master glared at the two from between his fingers.

It was a sight that would have merited a double-take and a jaw drop just a few years ago when they had all been in school. After all, Pansy Parkinson had been as staunchly pro-Voldemort as he had appeared to be. Hermione Weasley was the same then as she was now, sitting before him: a know-it-all Gryffindor with absolute faith in Harry Potter, Golden Boy of Gryffindor and Savior of the World. The two of them together, and laughing no less, would have caused mass chaos and cries of "It's the end of the world!" Damn the Weasleys and their stupid plot.

Draco had spent most of Friday and the entire weekend, when he wasn't avoiding the rabid fangirls, trying to convince Potter and the twins that not only was the plan stupid, but also that he would never agree. It had been, to say the least, an exercise in futility.

It was the reason he was awake so early on Monday morning, two full hours before breakfast, with Pansy and Weasley alternately staring and talking over his head and laughing at him. This could not end well.

The blond eyed the two women uneasily and wondered if maybe being continuously attacked by school-girls who thought gay men were hot was preferable.

"Okay, my esteemed colleague," Weasley giggled a little here. "It's time to begin."

Pansy, an evil grin spread across her face, slid a sly glance at the former Gryffindor before turning around to drag a large box across the floor. As she unlatched it and lifted the lid, she told Weasley "I've wanted to do this since third year!"

The bushy haired teacher laughed. "I have, too! Though I doubt it would be as much fun with Harry." The two women knelt on the floor, pulling scraps of cloth and smaller boxes from the chest, speaking too softly for the potions instructor to hear them but glancing at him enough for him to hazard a guess at the subject.

Then it hit him. Draco had co-operated with the plan to be rid of a mass of annoying though ultimately powerless fangirls, only to be handed over to two who were anything but powerless. Instinct told him to run, but it was as though the women had anticipated it. He couldn't move and realized that one of them must have cast a spell on him. He panicked as the girls stood and came forward to loom over his chair.

Merlin save him.

Two hours later, the same cursed women were trying to shove a resisting Draco through the door to the Great Hall. "No! I am NOT going in there like this!" the potions master yelled forcefully. "Not a bloody chance in Hell!"

Weasley pulled away and blew out an agitated breath. "Well, Parkinson," she said. "I guess we can't make him."

Pansy pulled away too and Draco looked between them suspiciously. "Weasley, we're witches," Pansy stated matter-of-factly. "There is nothing we can't do if we set our wands to it." Draco could feel his eye twitch. When the two women leaned forward to talk to each other, the blond took the opportunity to sneak away, edging along the wall. When escape appeared to be in sight, he turned to run only to be lifted off the floor by an arm on either side.

A glance in each direction showed Fred and George Weasley, laughing and drawing closer to the Great Hall. Draco started kicking as Pansy and Weasley fell into step behind them. "Damn all you Weasleys! Don't take me in there! Parkinson! You traitor! Get your arse up here and help me!"

Pansy shook her head and smiled. Weasley smiled as well saying "It's for what's best, you know." The twins were too busy laughing maniacally to listen to his protests. Doors opened then shut and Draco was dropped unceremoniously to hard stone floor.

He didn't want to stand. Surprised murmurs and gasps of shock told him that they were in the Great Hall. Draco knew he couldn't just sit there. He had defied the Dark Lord and faced him in battle, looking death in the eye. He could face a hall full of students dressed as he was. So he stood, brushed the wrinkles from his clothes and smoothed his hair back into place. Then turned to face the students and the room went quiet. After all, seeing Draco Malfoy in drag was not exactly an everyday occurrence.

Draco's grey eyes skimmed over the assembled students and teachers. Then he turned to meet the oh-so-innocent faces of his four captors. "What's going on?" he whispered furiously. "You _said_ they'd already taken the potion!"

One of the twins dropped the act and said "Well, just so you know, the potion has to be activated first."

"Yeah," the other added. "And it hasn't been activated yet." Pansy and Weasley nodded vigorously. Draco nearly growled his frustration. First, the damn Weasley twins actually created a potion, now the four in front of him knew all about it and had not bothered to share the information.

"And what, pray tell, is supposed to activate the bloody potion?" Draco asked as calmly as he could, given the circumstances.

"Us, of course." Draco turned and met the green eyes of Harry Potter. Then he blinked. And blinked again. He rubbed his eyes and peeked at the man standing two feet from him. The Weasleys and Parkinson were all shaking with silent laughter, faces red from holding it in.

"You're a cat," Draco stated. Laughter that could be held in no longer burst out from the four behind him. Potter grinned then reached up to finger one of the ears twitching delicately above his unruly hair. A long black tail swung gently behind him. Other than that he looked quite normal, though Draco would never admit that it was cute.

Potter met his gaze and grinned slyly. "I have to say, Malfoy, that gray is definitely your color." The potions master blushed as laughter rippled through the Great Hall. He was wearing a dress, light gray cashmere that draped lightly from his shoulders and hung to his knees. Pansy said it matched his eyes. Draco would have told her what she could do with the damn thing, only he'd been slightly incapacitated at the time.

The former Slytherin blinked when he realized Potter was a mere inch from his face staring up at him. "Are you wearing make-up? You look _good_."

He blushed harder and turned his face away from Potter's, trying to regain his cool. "Okay, what exactly do we need to do to activate the potion?"

He turned to look at the Weasley twins but they were busy fiddling with a camera and what looked to be a muggle camcorder, muttering something about a scrapbook. The potions master turned to the girls. Weasley seemed prepared to take notes and was holding a quill poised over a scroll. She motioned her hand at Potter as if to say "get on with it."

Pansy was the only one to meet his gaze. She sighed and stuck out a finger to flick the blond's nose. "Get over there and kiss him already! The sooner you do, the sooner the potion works." Then she gripped Draco's shoulders, turned him to face Potter and shoved him forward.

The potions master saved himself from falling and stood straight, looking down at Potter. He heard a slight sound behind him and knew the Weasley twins were ready. Draco flicked his gaze around the room, noting various looks of confusion and interest on the faces that all watched, as if the people present were held in place by a spell. Rolling his eyes, Draco realized that that was probably exactly what had kept them from leaving. He looked at Potter to find him twisting his tail through his fingers.

"It won't work if I kiss you, you know. The potion only activates if you kiss me," the former Gryffindor whispered. Draco blushed.

He liked kissing Potter but he'd never been the one to initiate it. "Why?" he whispered just as softly.

Potter shrugged and motioned toward Fred and George Weasley. "You'll have to ask them. Now are you going to do it or not?"

Draco gulped. He reached out a finger to trace a path down Potter's cheek, conscious the whole time that roughly a thousand people were watching what should have been a private moment. Determined to ignore them and figure out exactly what the potion did, the taller man slid both hands up to caress the dark ears. Potter purred and Draco wondered what exactly had turned the shorter man into a cat-boy. Something niggled at the edge of his mind, a kind of mental whisper that spoke of second year, but he ignored it when the brunet stepped close, pressing their bodies together. Draco decided to do it. Damn the Weasleys and their cameras.

His kissed Potter, hands sliding down to cup either side of the former hero's face. When the glasses got in his way, Draco removed them gently from his former rivals face and tucked them into the man's pocket. He caressed a path down the brunet's neck, across his shoulder and down his arm, finally coming to rest at his lower back just above the waist of his jeans. Merlin but the man felt good in his arms.

Draco ignored the gasps that came from behind him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding between Potter's lips. He faintly heard the sounds of disgust coming from those gathered about the room. He was too interested in the man he was holding.

The potions master pulled back a bit, the need for air had become too strong. He felt himself being jostled as students and teachers alike headed for the door, but he stayed still, holding Potter close and rubbing small circles on the man's back. After what felt like an eternity, the room was empty.

Draco turned, pulling the cat-boy with him, to face the twins and the girls. "What just happened?" he asked, but didn't get an answer. The twins had spelled the camcorder and the camera both to stay up, recording the events, before collapsing on the nearest bench, laughing loudly and hitting the table in hysteria.

Hermione Weasley put the finishing touches on her notes and put them away, a faint blush staining her cheeks. Once more, Draco turned to Pansy for an answer. She was blushing too, and heavily. "Whoa," she said, her eyes a bit glazed. "I think…I think I know why you had so many fangirls, Draco." The potions master watched, brow raised, as his friend shook her head in an obvious attempt to focus her thoughts. Then Pansy met his eyes. "Well, judging from the reactions of the students, I'd say the potion worked perfectly."

Draco sent her a glare that probably would have been more effective had he not been wearing a dress and holding a cat-boy pressed close to his side. "What did the potion do?" he asked, stressing the words. Potter pressed a butterfly kiss to his neck and Draco blushed. Pansy's eyes were starting to glaze over again so he looked at the brown-haired Weasley, the twins still laughing hysterically at the table.

"Well," the professor said, "I think it would be easier to see for yourself." Then she turned and hit both twins on the head. "Come on, boys. Time to see the results of your work."

The twins, still laughing, stood and grabbed the camera and camcorder from the air, the followed Weasley, leaning on each other for support. Draco walked behind them, pulling Potter along with him and grabbing Pansy to drag her behind. Moments later they were all seated comfortably in the Room of Requirement with what looked like a muggle television in front. Draco recognized it from one of his trips to muggle London. He'd even bought one when he had been remodeling Malfoy Manor.

Fred and George Weasley set up the camcorder, pausing every so often when they were overcome by giggles. Draco resisted the temptation to _stupidfy_ them both. Finally, it was ready. "Wait. Why did I have to be the one doing the kissing?" he asked curiously.

The red heads looked at him, speaking in unison to say "Because it's more gross that way."

Draco blinked. "Pardon?" Pansy didn't even look in his direction as she told him in no uncertain terms to just shut up and watch. So, Draco watched himself pushed on screen and glowered at his treacherous friend before watching himself kiss Potter. The potions instructor shifted a little in his seat, hoping no one would notice the subtle movement. His dress went only a little ways to hiding a certain problem.

Potter smirked up at him from the floor between Draco's legs and Draco blushed. One of the twins clapped his hands and said excitedly "Look! Here comes the good part."

The screen fuzzed out a bit then the picture was clear again. Draco's problem went instantly away and he couldn't hold in the disgusted "ugh!" The others burst out into laughter and the potions master glared fiercely at them all. They had known this would happen. How anyone could think the image of Filch making out with his cat was funny was beyond him.

Draco chanced another glance at the screen before groaning, "You're telling me that, in there, when I was kissing Potter," he flushed a little darker, "everyone saw Filch in a dress kissing Mrs. Norris?"

The twins nodded, pride shining from their identical faces. "One of our better ideas, don't you agree?" one said happily. Pansy and Weasley were still to busy laughing from the look on Draco's face.

"That's disgusting!"

Potter's laugh sent shivers down his spine and he looked down to meet the DADA professor's green eyes. "Look at it this way. You were just kissing a cat. I was kissing…well, _that_." The shorter man waved a hand toward the screen and Draco blanched when he saw Filch's tongue slide out.

"Merlin! Shut it off already! I'll have nightmares!" Weasley rolled her eyes and complied, handing the tape to her twin brothers-in-law.

Draco sniffed haughtily. "And why are you complaining anyway? You know it was me you were kissing."

Potter laughed and turned to kneel between Draco's knees, arms resting crossed on the blond's belly. "You know you were kissing me. And besides, now every time we kiss in front of anyone who was in that room, all they'll see is Filch and his ruddy cat. No more fangirls."

The potions master stared down at the man in his lap for a moment. No more fangirls? He could have gone without seeing the whole Filch incident, but it was a decent trade-off overall. He reached down and pulled Potter closer. Their lips were mere millimeters apart when he heard the sound of a voice being cleared.

Glancing to the side, Draco saw Hermione Weasley gesturing to her right. Those damn twins were taping them again and Pansy's eyes had glazed over completely. Was that drool? Draco growled and stood, pulling Potter along with him. "I'm going to get out of this dress."

He stormed toward the door, Potter in tow, and ignored the fact that he was blushing to his neck from the catcalls and whistles brought on by his statement. Stupid Weasley twins.

The two men were only feet from the former Slytherin's chambers before they encountered any students. "Look!" came the girl's shrill voice as she called her companions toward the men. "There they are!"

Draco raised a brow and looked down at the brunet. "Every time, right?" Potter grinned and nodded and the taller man pulled him into a quick kiss, watching from the corner of his eye as the girls' adoring expressions turned to looks of horror and disgust.

Laughter echoed through the hall as Draco pulled Potter through the door. "This could be useful after all." When he turned to face the shorter man after closing and locking his door, it was to see a familiar look on the Potter's face. It was the same look he'd seen in the alcove and in the divinations classroom and it made his senses tingle.

Potter shifted closer, forcing Draco against the door. "You know, Malfoy, it's not nice to be a tease." The sound of Potter's voice sent shivers down his spine. Then Draco realized it. He knew why he recognized that look. It was the same look a wolf gave before he devoured his prey. Potter was hungry.

Dennis Creevy, sixth year Gryffindor, strode quickly down to the dungeons, his brother's trusty camera hanging from his neck as he glanced periodically down at the strange pictures he'd taken that morning. He stopped in front of Professor Malfoy's office door and raised his hand to knock. Then he heard the gasp from the other side of the door and froze.

More sounds soon followed but the boy found himself quite unable to move, staring in shock at the door with his hand still raised. Students began to pass the room with more frequency and most stopped to gather at the door, joining the younger Creevy in staring in shock.

The sounds issuing from the other side of that door were recognizable to the older students, who smiled or blushed, but the younger students were lost until they heard the voice that had yelled often enough moan through the door three words that were followed by a husky laugh. "Bloody Harry Potter..."

**A/N: Right then, that's the end of it. It was kind of fun going back through and reading this again. I know its only a repost, but tell me what you thought, yeah?**


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